Cookie Emergency
by GunBunnyCentral
Summary: Abby has a bit of a holiday baking emergency, and enlists Ziva's help.


Notes: Just a little something that popped into my head last year while doing my usual holiday stuff for the FSAC – probably more pre-slash than anything. I'd originally wanted to do something involving Ziva and Hanukkah, but didn't have time to research the holiday properly.

{*****}

The ringing of Ziva's cell phone dragged her from a dead sleep. She was tempted not to answer, but the ringtone was the one she'd specifically assigned to Abby, which meant it could be work-related. Even if it wasn't, Abby was relentless - she'd get no peace, or further sleep, until Abby had spoken with her.

Abby didn't even wait for her greeting. "Oh, thank God! I need your help, like now - I have a cookie emergency!"

It sounded like the only emergency Abby actually had was over-consumption of Caf-Pow, so Ziva allowed herself a moment to pry her eyes open and check the bedside clock. "Abby, it's eight in the morning on the first day off I have had in weeks..."

That wasn't enough to deter Abby, though she did manage to sound at least a little apologetic. "I wouldn't ask, but it really is an emergency! I've got all these Christmas cookies to bake, and McGee's got a stomach bug - Gibbs and Tony are busy volunteering today, and I can't do all this baking by myself!"

Ziva couldn't entirely bite back her sigh, though her involuntary smile said she really didn't mind being asked to help out. "Calm down, Abby. I can be over at your place in about an hour."

Only some of Abby's profuse - and exceedingly wordy - thanks filtered through as Ziva went about gathering clean clothes so she could jump in the shower before leaving, but it was apparently enough for some of the other woman's seemingly inexhaustible energy to transfer over to Ziva and wake her up a bit.

An hour later, as promised, Ziva was parking her Mini in front of Abby's house. She'd even made time to stop off and pick up a holiday treat for breakfast, along with some much-needed coffee - she'd worried once upon a time about giving Abby coffee, but it had turned out that Abby's beloved Caf-Pow contained much more caffeine than even the strongest coffee Ziva could imagine drinking.

She hadn't even had the chance to knock on the front door before Abby yanked it open. The Goth was dressed down in a t-shirt and tattered jeans, and already covered in flour - she flung herself at Ziva, wrapping her in a bear hug right there on her front doorstep. "Oh thank you thank you thank you!"

Ziva, smiling despite herself, ignored the various feelings that hug evoked, and commented instead on Abby's appearance and demeanor as the other woman led her inside. "I see you started without me. How many Caf-Pow's have you had this morning?"

Abby just grinned, bouncing in place a little as she sipped at the eggnog-flavored coffee Ziva had brought her. "Only two - I'm trying to pace myself."

Ziva would normally have made some wisecrack at that, but was too busy staring at Abby's kitchen, which was currently something of a disaster area. "You're doing this all wrong, Abby. Here - let me show you."

Within about fifteen minutes, Ziva had everything cleaned up and rearranged for maximum baking efficiency, as Abby watched the whole process in amused disbelief. There were cookies currently in the oven, so Ziva took the opportunity to dish out breakfast - it had been well-wrapped, fortunately, so it was still warm.

Abby just beamed as she saw the round, jelly-filled donuts. "Oh my God - _sufganiyot_! I haven't had these in forever."

"You know about _sufganiyot_?" Ziva was surprised, but impressed. Abby had even said the word correctly.

"Totally," Abby replied between bites. "I lived next door to a Jewish couple when I was college. They didn't have any kids, so they kinda adopted me - the wife loved to cook, and always made extra for me. I don't think I actually grocery shopped for myself until grad school."

Ziva had to smile at that. "I used to make these for Hanukkah every year with my grandmother. We baked a lot any time I visited, actually - that's how I know about all this."

She gestured around the kitchen, grateful that Abby simply accepted this unexpected facet of her background without any joking or teasing - bantering with Tony was fun, but could get very old after a while. Come to think of it, Abby had always taken everything about her in similar stride - Ziva figured that it explained a great deal about her fondness for the Goth.

The two of them chatted amiably as they finished the coffee and donuts, waiting for the current batch of cookies to come out of the oven. After that, though, Ziva insisted they get serious about the baking - Abby needed several dozen cookies baked and decorated, and they'd be at it all day if they didn't get properly organized.

Abby, laughing, simply let Ziva take over, following her lead as she realized how much faster and easier things were going under her guidance. That wasn't to say they didn't have fun, though - there were no flour or cookie dough fights, but mixing the dough and decorating the cookies was almost like being given a coloring book and crayons again. It hearkened back to a simple, childlike creativity that neither woman got much chance to exercise.

Ziva had to admit, as she did her best to sing along with Christmas music that was pleasant enough but only somewhat familiar, it was a much better way to spend her day off than simply sitting around at home by herself. Abby's home seemed to radiate the same sort of endless positive energy that its owner did, and Ziva had always felt strangely at peace there.

Hard as it was to believe, the day only continued to improve once they were done in the kitchen, as they sat in Abby's living room packaging up all the finished cookies - the baking and decorating had been an unqualified success, and Abby was beyond pleased.

Abby turned on the television to a fine arts channel showing multiple versions of Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, then disappeared into the kitchen for several minutes. Ziva, focused on both her task and the rather avant-garde ballet performance, didn't even think to wonder what the other woman was up to until Abby reappeared with two cups of mulled wine.

It was excellent mulled wine, too - Abby apparently knew her port, and the one she'd picked was nicely complemented by the cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Ziva simply inhaled the mixture's aroma for several heartbeats before taking her first sip. "This is wonderful, Abby - I'd say you shouldn't have to gone to the trouble, but I'd be lying."

Abby laughed at that, pleased by Ziva's appreciation of her handiwork. They finished packaging up the last of the cookies, stacking them neatly on Abby's dining room table to make it easy to load them into her car when she went to deliver them tomorrow - Ziva actually surprised them both by accepting Abby's invitation to go with her in the morning while she did.

By the time they got dinner delivered - something from an excellent Thai restaurant, Abby's treat - the next performance of The Nutcracker was starting, and they settled in to watch it without any distractions. It was a slightly older and much more traditional performance by England's Royal Opera Ballet, and Ziva even got to regale Abby with tales of being taken to see them live in England by her father one year.

The rather bizarre mixture of everything in the day - traditional Hanukkah breakfast, Christmas baking, an English performance of The Nutcracker accompanied by Thai food for dinner - was the sort of thing that only seemed to happen in Abby's proximity. It was simultaneously bracing and relaxing, and Ziva found herself glad she'd accepted Abby's invitation.

Ziva's favorite part of the day, though, was something only she was actually awake to witness. Abby, having run at her usual full throttle without pacing herself, had finally just crashed as she and Ziva sat on the couch watching the television together - Ziva felt no immediate need to wake her, and simply let her sleep.

A short while later, Abby had shifted in her sleep so that her head was in Ziva's lap - Abby being Abby, it wasn't an entirely unheard-of occurrence. Ziva, who enjoyed the closeness far more than she'd ever let Abby see while awake, indulged her unspoken surge of tenderness by reaching out to stroke Abby's hair as she murmured soothingly in Hebrew. "Sleep well, sweetheart."


End file.
